


You Set Me Aflame

by Colourful_skies



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Banter, Edward Elric Can't Draw, Edward Elric Swears, Fainting, First Impressions, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Angst, Like let's span decades slow burn, M/M, No Truth or Automail, Nothing underage, Pre-Canon to Post-Brotherhood, Romance, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Variation on Alchemy, Xing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colourful_skies/pseuds/Colourful_skies
Summary: Roy’s soul link manifests later than usual, and of course it’s fire coursing in his veins. He spends years waiting for the soulmate hot-headed enough to warrant this blessing-curse. When Roy’s tattoo finally reveals the moment that they meet… well, he’s not sure this is better than nothing.In contrast, Ed’s link arrives at full strength. “A powerful smartass – great.” It ought to be obvious when he meets his match, except that a failed attempt to save his mother has already ruined his tattoo. Well, whatever – he has things to do, people to save, and zero time for romantic nonsense.When the pair finally meets, sparks fly – or rather, they would if Roy wasn’t determined to keep Ed as safe and far away as possible. However, fate is patient, and it’s almost as stubborn as flame.
Relationships: Brief Roy Mustang/Maes Hughes, Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 5
Kudos: 181
Collections: Roy/Ed Week 2020





	1. Linked

**Author's Note:**

> RoyEd Week Prompt: Soulmates AU / Fever (both)
> 
> Some of it's hand-wavey, but the general premise is that some people gain an elemental power (similar to alchemy) linked to their soulmate's personality. Personally, I also see this as a "Maes lives" AU, but it's not really explored so I didn't tag.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

As a child, Roy Mustang always wondered how his soul link would manifest.

Not _everyone_ got powers, of course, but Roy practically burst with confidence. Ambition flowed in his veins, even before his hormones set in properly. Secretly, he knew he wouldn’t be attracted to someone… ordinary. Boring. Was this idea horribly conceited? Probably. But young Roy wanted to change the world, and he hoped the universe would send a worthy partner to keep him on his toes.

On the eve of his 10th birthday, he stayed up until midnight, screwing his eyes shut in concentration. Waiting for something, anything, to resonate differently within his bones.

12:01, 12:02, and nothing had happened.

Roy padded downstairs, where his Aunt Chris was still working. The tavern was nearly deserted tonight, so she noticed him right away. Roy approached the bar.

“Chris?” His voice betrayed a tremor. “My birthday is the 25th, for sure, right?”

Chris should’ve been angry with him for coming back down so late. However, her eyes softened with understanding. “Yes, Roy. Your parents kept fastidious records.”

Roy deflated. “Okay. Thanks, Aunt Chris.” He glanced at his wrists once more, but they were still bare.

Chris walked out from behind the bar and wrapped Roy in a hug. “No manifestation, then?”

Roy shook his head mutely.

“It’s all right,” she said, in a rare show of maternal instinct. “Your soul link could be unpowered for any number of reasons. Your mate might be wonderful, but particularly well-rounded or even-tempered. Or maybe,” her eyebrow cocked, “they’re not even born yet.”

Roy screwed up his face. “Really? But I don’t wanna marry a _baby_. Gross.”

Chris let out a rough laugh. “You won’t, my dear. A few years’ difference matters much less when you’re a grown-up… but whoever it is, nobody’s forced to love each other.” She smiled gently again. “No matter the situation, it’s not worth worrying about now.”

Roy breathed out heavily. “But what do I tell my friends?”

“Whatever you want to, or nothing at all. It’s none of their damn business, frankly.”

Roy giggled. Chris usually censored herself a bit around him, but he knew he was already much less sheltered than his classmates.

“That’s the winning smile I love so well.” Chris ruffled his hair. “Now, it’s dreadfully late. Try to get some sleep and let your Aunt get back to work.”

“Okay,” said Roy. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dear. Happy birthday.”

* * *

The lack of soul link grated on Roy, but the ache became easier to ignore over time.

So what if he was bombarded with sappy movies about soulmates? _They need new tropes_ , he thought privately. But he needed to understand how to act the part, how to win the love interest, so he watched anyway. If the ones featuring impressing Wielding duos filled him with envy, well, so be it.

Even if it felt like it, not _everyone_ had a soul link. Maes Hughes didn’t, for one.

Maes was Roy’s best friend at school. When they were thirteen or so, the topic came up in conversation.

“I never did get one,” said Maes balefully. “And I have so much love to give! I don’t understand.”

“Neither did I,” admitted Roy, to his friend’s visible surprise. (Many people hid their links.)

“But you’re so popular with the ladies! All those dates?”

Roy scoffed. “I’m just practicing.” He pursed his lips. “My aunt said it wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe our soulmates are just even-tempered enough or something that we didn’t manifest the link in an obvious way.” He shrugged.

Maes eyes shone. He smiled at Roy, whose stomach twisted in a confusing way.

“Maes… do you ever wish you practiced more?”

That day, Roy discovered that he was popular with more than just the ladies. Hughes tasted like peppermint, and Roy encountered his hint of stubble. _Exfoliation_ , his mind volunteered helpfully. It really wasn’t so bad.

They practiced for a while to great effect. A few short months later, though, Maes bounced in with brighter eyes than usual. “Roy! I found her!”

Roy quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I think so, anyway.” Hughes shrugged. “I guess we don’t _really_ know, ’cause we don’t have tattoos, but I have a good feeling. Have you met that new transfer student?” He practically bounced up and down. “Her name is Gracia.”

Roy forced his cheeks into a smile. “Great.” He blinked. “Good luck with that, buddy.”

Maybe Chris was wrong, and he’d have to take on the world all by himself.

* * *

When he was fourteen, Roy’s world changed again.

He was just finishing up a test when he felt inexplicably overwhelmed. It was like he’d been struck by an instant-onset fever.

“Thank you,” said his teacher, accepting the paper he handed in. Her eyes lingered on his ruddy face. “Mustang, are you quite all right?”

“Um, yes,” offered Roy weakly, and then the world faded into blackness.

He woke up again in the nurse’s office. Aunt Chris was there, and he wondered how long had passed. It was still bright outside, and he heard the buzz of students packing up through the door.

“Look who’s awake,” said the nurse.

Roy sat up so quickly he saw stars. “What happened?”

Chris and the nurse offered him surprisingly gentle smiles. Suspicion creeped in.

“No, really, what?”

The nurse spoke first. “We suspect your soul link just manifested,” she said. “Such a sudden event is unusual, but not unheard of.” She paused. “Either that, or you visited a tattoo shop between periods.” She gestured at the small geometric outline on his right wrist.

Roy blinked and wrapped her words around his mind. “What makes you so sure? What if it’s…” he grasped for straws, “an iron deficiency or something? And a… rare rash?”

Chris quirked an eyebrow.

The nurse cleared her throat. “Well, you certainly had an impressive fever. We do have a specific conjecture, though.” She offered him a pair of smooth, white gloves. “It sounds odd, but please put these on and snap. Try to picture how you felt earlier today.”

Baffled, Roy complied. To his astonishment, his snap sparked a small flame that hovered above his hand. He was momentarily speechless.

“It’s a fire gift,” said Chris. She sounded proud. “They’re extremely rare. The gloves are optional, but they’ll help you focus it.”

Roy blinked. Everything he’d understood about the world felt fragile. “What does fire mean?” He knew that electricity was a common form associated with intelligence, and earth elements tended to be paired with raw power. There were a few others he’d come across, but never fire.

It wasn’t just pride he saw there; mischief danced in her eyes as well. That was never a good sign. “My dear,” she said, “it sounds like your soulmate will be younger, brilliant, and marked with a fiery personality.”

Roy raised both eyebrows.

“Look on the bright side,” she said. “You were afraid they’d be too even-tempered for you. Whoever this person is, _boring_ they are not.”

* * *

To his classmates, Roy brushed off his fainting spell as stress, dehydration, or any number of factors. _Who knows_. He began applying makeup to his tattoo or donning white gloves, as the mood struck.

However, at sixteen it became impossible to hide. Once someone caught him practicing his flame in the courtyard, the secret spread like… wildfire.

“Just had to let it shine, didn’t you?” muttered Maes good-naturedly.

“You’re just glad you and Gracia found each other,” retorted Roy, without venom. “ _Everyone’s_ convinced they’re my long-lost fiery soulmate. Dear lord.”

“Hormones,” said Maes. He waved his hand dismissively. “At least the secret came out early enough that you can flaunt it in your college applications.” Roy raised his eyebrow. “What? Admissions teams like showy gifts. I don’t make the rules.”

“Where are you going?”

Maes grins. “I want to help people, so I’ve decided to enlist as a military man.” He mimed a salute.

“Really? Not a doctor? Or an elementary school teacher?” He couldn’t reconcile his gentle image of Maes with the armed forces.

Maes shrugged. “I don’t know. My uncle served, and I think I’d like to follow in his footsteps.” He took off his glasses and wiped them clean. “How about you, Roy?”

Now it was Roy’s turn to shrug, rather helplessly. “It’s a toss-up. I want to make a difference, lead people, all of that, but I’m not sure how to narrow it down.” He pursed his lips. “Honestly, I might go the military route as well.” And he did.

As so many things are, Roy’s enrollment was a terrible mistake.

He kept his eyes on the need for change, sure, but at what cost? By the time he was knee-deep in the moral quagmire, obedience suddenly meant slaughtering hundreds, and the way out of the status quo was nowhere to be found.

“I should’ve said ‘fuck no’ on day one,” said Roy roughly. He stood next to Hughes, looking out at a wasteland of an Ishvalan city. “And now it’s too late. Maybe we got some insurgents, but these civilians hardly had a chance. Why are we here, Maes?” His voice shook, despite himself.

The eye bags on Maes’ face rivalled Roy’s own. “Roy,” he said. “This isn’t right, and I have my regrets too, but this isn’t the end. Maybe they’ll realize they made a mistake. We’re supposed to be here to bring peace.” His eyes traced the dirt.

“I _will_ change this. I have to.” Roy grasped at the reason that most endeared him to staying alive. “If I keep rising and become Fuhrer, they’ll have to listen to me. I can make sure the government uses diplomacy and funding to solve its problems, rather than stream upon stream of human weapons.” He shuddered.

Maes smiled sadly. “I know you will, Roy.” He bit his lip for a moment. “Promise me you won’t forget this moment? That you won’t make it to the top and succumb to greed and bloodlust?”

Roy grabbed Maes’ hands and nodded. “I will always watch out for anyone alongside and below me, whether or not my superiors do the same.” He swallowed. “If I look out for my reports, and they look out for _their_ reports, we’ll make a chain of support too strong for treachery. Sometimes I wonder if that’s all we can do, powerless creatures that we are.” His gaze drifted back to smoking city.

“A chain, huh?” With one hand, Maes traced the tattoo outline on Roy’s wrist. With the other, he gently turned Roy’s head back away from the wreckage. “Then’s that’s what we’ll do. Craft your part of the chain, and it will be enough.”

Roy’s voice was rough. “It has to be.”

* * *

The second that Edward turned ten, his blood positively thrummed with electricity.

“Brother,” called Al from across the room. His voice sounded distorted, as if underwater. “You’re pale.”

Ed shook his head, clinging to consciousness for dear life. He cleared his throat. “Al, remember what Trisha told us about soul links?”

Al bit his lip. “A little.”

“Fair. What about Teacher’s spiel?” Ed pinched the space between his eyes. “That part about decoding powers? Symbolism?” His head burned. The coursing energy made him feel like a speck of dust – insignificant and in imminent danger of a vacuum.

Al’s eyes grew round as he realized why his brother was falling apart. “Oh, yes.” He plopped onto the couch beside Ed and started counting on his fingers. “Earth means immense power, water means outstanding harmony, ice, profound bitterness, fire, a soul as tough and hot as steel...” there was one more she’d had them recite. “Electricity means a ‘fucking smartass’.”

“Al,” Ed’s language scolding had zero teeth. He was one to talk. He shivered and sat up straighter as the power familiarized with his body.

“Is that what this is? Link manifestation?” Al sounded over the moon and maybe a little jealous. “What can you do?”

“I dunno yet,” said Ed. He shook his head, and hand movements rushed to his mind unbidden. “Guess we’ll see.”

Ed clapped his hands together and lunged to the floor, pulling out... a giant, twisted sword with a stone hilt. Small lightning bolts zinged off the blade and into the air.

The sparks of electricity reflected in Al’s deeply impressed eyes.

 _A powerful smartass, then_. Ed sighed. “Well, fuck.”

* * *

Honestly, Ed’s new power was dead useful.

Most of his friends (acquaintances?) at school got something or other. Electricity wasn’t all that rare, but most people didn’t get two elements, and no-one’s power started out as strong as Ed’s. He played with it, Wielded it in small ways, and privately wondered at his limits.

“I bet his soulmate’s _dangerous_ ,” he heard someone whisper on the playground. “His power is so strong already.”

“Nah, I bet they’re just super old,” said another. “And ugly.”

Ed turned away. He had better things to spend his thoughts on. A deeply illegal side project, for one.

“Human beings are made of water, carbon, ammonia, lime, phosphorous, and a few other elements,” he said to Al as the idea incubated. “Many of those are found in soil.” He grabbed a handful of dry earth for emphasis. “And what restarts a human heart? Electricity.”

Al had looked less skeptical than he would’ve for anyone else, bless him. “And?”

“And,” said Ed, gesturing with fingers still lined with dirt, “we can find the rest of the ingredients. We could bring Mom back.”

Al’s mouth dropped into a small “o”. “But isn’t that illegal?”

Ed adopted his most innocent face. “Maybe it is, in the spirit of the law, but... well, no one’s done it yet. Who’s to say.”

Brotherly love couldn’t fully submerge critical thinking, even for a nine-year-old. “Brother, this sounds like a terrible idea.” He bit his lip. “Terrible or brilliant.”

And so Ed had grinned and begun research in earnest.

The full moon he needed landed two days after Al turned ten and – surprise – also gained a powerful soul link.

“Absolutely not,” said Ed. “I’m doing stupid shit, but that doesn’t mean you have to get hurt too.”

“But it might work,” said Al. “And I can Wield electricity too.” He demonstrated a happy little spark. “If I’m involved, we have a better chance of bringing her back.”

For all his affection, Ed had a vicious pragmatic streak. His internal war played out visibly on his face.

“Seriously, brother.” Al widened his eyes. “Trisha was my mom, too. Please let me help.”

“Fine,” said Ed gruffly. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

* * *

The-shell-that-was-Roy continued to push paperwork like nothing was wrong. (Right? Right?) He overperformed, relentlessly achieving, while damaging his poor liver in his nightly reflections on how idealism had led him to state-sponsored genocide.

As the hero of Ishval (ha), he’d been promoted. His new right-hand woman was both a worthy lieutenant and a longstanding personal friend.

“Sir,” said Riza. “You need some time away from Central.”

Roy stamped another form, using more force than he strictly needed. “When?” Thwomp. “You know as well as anyone how –” thwomp – “damn little time we have here.”

Riza launched phase two of her argument.

“You’ll be no use to anyone when you,” she paused for effect, “burn out, sir.”

“Ha fucking ha.” Roy’s mouth quirked up despite himself. He couldn’t afford a break from the office, though. Or was it simply that he didn’t deserve one? “This country needs my best.” _I’ve already let down too many civilians._

Riza sighed. “I have the perfect answer that also meets your chronic need of self-flagellation.” She always could read his mind. “There’s some nasty business out east in Resembool.”

“Dairy capital of Amestris?”

“That’s the one.” Riza nodded curtly. “Sources say that there’s a young man who’s acquired a suspicious supply of lime and other elements. He’s also borrowed a mountain of... unusual books.”

“Oh, god.” Roy could see where this was going.

“Yup.”

“Has he tried...?”

“Not that we know, yet. But someone should intervene, and soon.”

* * *

Ed succeeded in restarting _someone’s_ heart that day, and it wasn’t his mother’s.

Through a power he didn’t fully understand, his brother was once more alive, his energy bound to a suit of armour. Ed thanked the heavens for his prior research on blood seals and electricity, but it was little comfort in contrast to Al’s body being _fucking gone_.

“Brother.” His little brother’s voice echoed from Hohenheim’s old suit of armour, and the fundamental wrongness of it struck Ed in the gut. It – he – twisted around to look at his new limbs. “What’s happening? I don’t understand.”

The transmutation didn’t work. There was a blackened corpse where their mother should’ve been, and now he’d ruined Al’s life with his overoptimism.

Oh, god. Ed was going to be sick again.

Ed had escaped cruelly unscathed. Well, almost. He looked down at the long, vicious welt on his arm. It hurt like a bitch, sure, but what it meant was far worse. With a soul tattoo so badly singed, he’d never know for sure when he’d met his mate. Of course, now neither would Al... and yet their plan had failed and they were still motherless. Ed wanted to scream.

“Holy crap,” said Winry in the doorway. Maybe the screaming was out loud. Who knew.

His brother seeming shaken but alive, his mom decidedly dead once more, Ed let himself be led away to dissolve into a useless puddle. After resting a while, he could – and had to – harden once more.

Curse his rotten luck, but a stranger arrived before he could sop himself up properly.

Granny Pinako came to his bedroom door, knocking softly. Ed and Al were in there now, cleaned up, bandaged (as applicable) and reading quietly.

“You have a visitor, Edward,” she said.

“I’m not interested,” he grumbled.

“Apparently, it’s not optional. I said you were sick, and he’s not listening. It’s the military,” she added.

“Well, tell him to fuck off, then.” Ed burned with the desire to punch something.

“I absolutely will not,” said Pinako. “You do it, if you’re so inclined.” She looked at him shrewdly. “But Edward, at least hear the man out.”

Ed grumbled and dragged himself out of the room.

“What do you want?” By twelve, he was already surprisingly gifted at dripping his voice with sarcasm.

The intruder cleared his throat. He brushed long, black hair out of his eyes, presumably a reflex. In the next moment, Ed saw that he stood with a woman who also wore the uniform of the Amestrisian military.

“Colonel Roy Mustang.” The shaggy-haired man held out a hand. “This is my colleague, First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye.”

Ed begrudgingly offered his own (the left one), the pair shook hands, and Roy’s eyes widened as they fell upon his freshly bandaged right arm.

“We heard reports that someone in this house was investigating the impossible and forbidden practice of human transmutation.”

“They were right; it _is_ impossible. As far as I can figure.” Ed’s voice was both dull and sharply edged.

Mustang cleared his throat, looking nervous. “Can I have your word that you will desist research and not attempt something of this nature?” His hands dropped into his pockets.

Ed’s laugh was dry and remarkably bitter. “You’re too late for that.”

Mustang and Hawkeye blanched. Al padded around the corner, still a bit clumsy in his new metal body. The pair paled further.

“Is – Is that…?”

“Hello,” said Al.

“Yes,” sighed Ed. “We were punished for the Taboo.” He clenched his face shut, perhaps in self-loathing. “It tried to take Al,” he took a breath, “and I didn’t let his soul go. But I’ll get his body back if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I’m coming with you, obviously,” chipped in Al.

“As soon as we stop bleeding and finish working our way through the local libraries.” Ed shrugged, nonchalance at odds with the objective terribleness of the situation. He explained their failed experiment in greater depth. A pregnant pause followed.

“Edward, you should become a State Wielder,” blurted out Mustang. His companion looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “No, really. The fact that you two got this far is _unheard_ of. Holy Xerxes, you can’t try human transmutation again, but there are other Electricity and Earth Wielders across the country that might be able to help you. Assisting the state in this role is prestigious, and you would have immense resources at your disposal. Think of it as a scholarship… but from the military. If you pass the exam.”

Ed cocked an eyebrow, giving off a distinct air of “ _I would cuss you out for even mentioning this if it wasn’t for my brother_ ”. He huffed thoughtfully. “Resources, huh? Would we need to be in, well, active service? I don’t wanna kill people, and it’d be a damn shame if we died before getting Al’s body back.”

Mustang swallowed. “Strictly speaking, you would be in service, but your team lead could put you on predominantly peaceful missions that would allow plenty of time for personal research.” Roy ran his fingers through his hair again. “We certainly don’t want to kill anyone, and these days, it is very, very rarely necessary.” Ed’s eyes lingered on his holster, nonetheless.

After a silent brotherly exchange, Ed gave a stone-faced nod. “We’ll go. I’ll take this exam.”

“Very well.” Mustang gave the rest of the pertinent details, and before long he and Riza were on their way out.

As one does, Edward stood by the door to eavesdrop.

“What the hell, sir? He’s twelve! I trust your judgement, but good lord, are we enlisting from the cradle next?”

There was a momentary silence and Hawkeye spoke again. “Oh. _Oh._ Just now?”

Mustang presumably nodded. “I can keep him safe, Riza. You know that… that firecracker and his brother are doing this anyway, so they might as well have state oversight and support.”

“Fine, Roy,” the voices were farther now, “but I hope you know what you’re doing.”

* * *

It should have been a relief to finally know the identity of his soulmate.

Instead, Roy felt wretched.

“He’s just a kid, Maes,” he says over the phone. “I panicked and I enlisted a kid in this country’s fucked-up military. He’s gonna grow up and hate me _and_ everything I stand for.”

“Roy.” Maes pulled out his _calm-down_ voice, the one he used mostly for children and small animals. “You know you did this for a reason.”

“I think I could keep him safe,” said Roy in a small voice. “It sounds ridiculous, but those brothers look like they’ll court trouble the rest of their lives. We have the resources to back them up. And I can keep them away from the storm brewing in Central.”

“That’s your answer, then,” said Maes. “Be careful, Roy.”

Roy sighed. “I’ll try.”

Edward was quickly accepted as a State Wielder, thanks to his showy fuck-you practical (oh, the guts on that kid). Unofficially, the brothers came as a package deal. With a moniker like “Fullmetal Wielder” and a sidekick made of steel, the two were often confused for one another.

Soul links came up once in conversation.

“Hey, Bastard,” said Ed. “Who’s your fiery sweetheart, anyway? Is she one of the dates you cycle through? Is that even legal?”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “You think it’s your business _why_?”

Ed huffed. (He did that a lot.) “Yeah, well, sorry. I was just curious. Most Wielders talk about their soulmates – heck, even some non-Wielders, have you _met_ Maes? But you’re always kinda hush-hush. Guess I was curious.”

Roy leaned back. “My soul link… didn’t work out. It’s fine.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“I said it’s fine.” Roy willfully softened his face. “How about yourself, Fullmetal? You’re fairly ‘hush-hush’ yourself.”

Ed pointed sardonically at the large scar covering his forearm. “Not a clue. I Wield, so I guess they exist. Yay. Honestly, though? I don’t have time for that shit, so maybe it’s just as well.”

“Oh?”

Ed always met Roy’s eyes with such intensity. “I need to get Al back his body as soon as I can. He’s good about it, but I can tell it wears on him.” He sighed. “I don’t want to be bound to anyone, anyway, and girls are kinda gross. I’m more of a lone wolf.”

“Perhaps you’ll change your mind later?” Roy asked. Ed responded with only an eyebrow. “Or you could be like me instead and enjoy growing old and bitter.”

“Sounds more like it,” said Ed. “And ‘growing’? I see past that playboy act. You’re _def_ already there.”

“You little –”

“Little?!”

…So maybe they didn’t have the smoothest working relationship, but it was functional. They challenged each other, like steel on steel.

“Fullmetal left a message along with his report, sir,” said Riza placidly. “He said, and I quote, ‘Tell the bastard this is too much fucking paperwork.’”

Roy snorted. “It wouldn’t be nearly so tedious if he didn’t have a burning passion for destroying property.”

Riza smiled as well. “I suggested as much, but I’m sure you can imagine how much he appreciated it.”

Over the years, Roy kept him well-supplied and emotionally at arm’s length. He could nearly forget their powers’ origin and the filled-in tattoo on his wrist. With his trademark gloves, Roy was hardly even asked about it. And no-one could blame a politician for having a few secrets.

That said, all the forgetting in the world didn’t actually change their connection. This came into sharp relief a while after the Elrics had left for Briggs.

A propos of nothing, Roy suddenly felt doused with ice water. He shivered violently, strangely light-headed.

“Riza?”

She popped her head in and her expression morphed to alarm.

“Sir? Roy, your skin looks like porcelain. Dear lord.”

“I think – the Elrics…”

He trailed off as the sensation switched. Fire coursed through his entire body. It wasn’t like the comfortable hum that had followed him since adolescence. No, this was an inferno. It swirled around Roy’s core, as if he’d been impaled by the sun itself.

Riza grabbed his shoulder as he started to fall, but then she pulled back as if scalded. He caught himself before he could land on his face.

“Stand back.” Roy’s command came out as a whisper, but she obeyed. Lifting himself up, Roy snapped, and a towering pillar of flame burst from his fingers. After a moment, he let the fire dissipate – the power surge had passed over.

“That… was interesting,” said Riza faintly. She offered him a handkerchief. “Shall I track down the Elrics? See if they have any news?”

“Please do. The next time they’re in town,” said Roy hoarsely, “Fullmetal’s on filing duty for a month.”

* * *

By enlisting, Ed had thought he was signing up for delivering supplies, maybe kicking some asses, but ultimately getting lots of time to track down Al’s body. This was… kind of true.

He hadn’t counted on overthrowing a wide-scale murder plot and ultimately assisting with a government coup. Oops. Well, what can you do.

He stood in HQ’s courtyard, Father’s dust probably still floating through the air, and felt a strange giddiness come over him. He tightly hugged his newly-flesh-again brother, determined to never let go. Honestly, Ed’s exhaustion was so acute that it threatened to leak out of his eyes.

Ed became aware of a figure off to the side, giving them space. Mustang.

The bastard had given up his coat so his brother wasn’t stark naked ( _he’s considerate_ , his brain helpfully supplied), but that didn’t mean Ed would give up his grudge so easily.

“What do you want?” huffed Ed. Al rolled his eyes and shot Roy an apologetic look.

“Fullmetal,” said Mustang. “I just wanted to wish you congratulations on your win. And Alphonse, welcome back to your body.”

Alphonse beamed while Ed shifted from foot to foot. “Well, obviously we all worked together,” he hedged. “Hey, Mustang, are you even all right?” He shouldn’t care, not really, but the man’s pupils remained an ominous grey.

Mustang laughed a touch harshly. “One might say no, but there are some techniques I’ll try. At worst, I’ll get used to navigating the world a different way. We’ll see if Amestris is ready for a blind Fuhrer.” He curtsied. “Honestly, though, don’t worry about me.”

Mustang seemed friendlier than usual. Ed’s forehead wrinkled. “Are you getting soft in your old age? You were an utter _bastard_ until ten minutes ago. Now you’re acting like… maybe fifty percent of a bastard.” He brushed off Alphonse’s scolding “Brother!” beside him.

Mustang’s laugh took on a more genuine quality. “Well-noted.” His lips curled into a smile. “I don’t consider myself much of a bastard, but it’s hard to say. You would certainly have a different perspective from down there.” He puffed himself up to his full height.

“Why, you…!”

Al gently dragged his brother away by the elbow. Mustang waved jauntily at them.

Mustang was still regaining his sight in the hospital when Ed handed in his military resignation. He felt a twinge of _something_ at not seeing the bastard’s face one last time, but time marches on.

Ed and Al bundled up their belongings and joined the expedition headed to Xing. May bounced around with particular joy at their (read: Al’s) company.

“You think this is the best plan, right?” Ed suddenly felt uncharacteristically wary about leaving. Familiar buildings receded in the skyline.

“There is no ‘right’ plan,” said Al sagely, “but I think this is a good one.”

And so they trudged on, chasing their next adventure.

* * *

“Sir?” asked Riza. She and Roy were working together to unpack boxes into their new office. It was tedious, but Roy was hit with a renewed sense of gratitude that he could see these things at all.

“Hmm?”

“Did you ever tell Ed about… your tattoo?”

Roy pursed his lips, gathering her meaning immediately. “No.”

She stopped to turn towards him more fully. “I figured as much, but I always wondered why.”

“You know why,” scoffed Roy. “What is he now, sixteen?”

Riza rested a hand on her hip. “Well, clearly. I’m glad you have sufficient judgement to see the issue there.” She paused. “But even if you and your thoughts stayed chaste as a dove for a few years longer… doesn’t he deserve to know?”

Roy raised an eyebrow. “You think he’d respond well? ‘ _Congratulations, the boss you hate is also your soulmate?_ ’”

“No.” Riza sighed. “But the kid doesn’t have a tattoo anymore. He’ll never know for sure whether he’s met his mate… It’s information he might want to know.”

It was much too early for this conversation. “Maybe someday,” Roy allowed. “But I did everything in my power to keep them safe, and I trust those two can handle themselves in Xing.” He chewed his lip. “I can’t even _entertain_ thoughts like that right now, not when he’s a damn teenager. For all I know, he’ll fall in love next week. That said,” he paused. “If he storms back in here someday, I won’t lie. I won’t keep it from him forever.”

“Fine,” said Riza. Her expression softened. “Good luck, sir.”

A pensive silence fell.

“Listen, Riza,” said Roy. “I’m sorry you never got a soul link.”

Riza brushed it off. “It’s fine. You know more than anyone that they can be more trouble than they’re worth. It doesn’t mean I won’t meet someone.” She smiled. “Who knows what might happen?”

“Who knows, indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next stop is Xing and then a significant conversation. I've drafted the final 2-3k and will post it shortly. :)


	2. Rekindled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind response! I hope this lives up to your hopes.

Xing pulled in the Elrics like a magnet, and the next few years passed quickly. After a few months of nomadic life, Ed and Al leased an apartment together in the country’s capital. Their neighbourhood was comfortable and vibrant. If Ed didn’t dwell on it too heavily, Xing almost felt like home. Distance from darker memories _almost_ made up for distance from their earlier community, and keeping a couple pen pals (like Winry) helped to bridge the gap.

They settled into a strange kind of equivalent exchange: as Alphonse fell deeper in love with May, Ed fell deeper into student debt.

Ed liked to poke fun at both sides of this equation. Thankfully, he’d gotten funding, and Xingese tuition was pretty tame. He’d fast-tracked his education, obviously, so he was soon graduating with a PhD in Electrochemical Engineering. The local university specialized in overlaps and differences between Eastern and Western soulmate powers, which was fascinating, and they encouraged research spanning practice and theory. Ed was equally content Wielding and spending hours in the library. For his part, Alphonse had stopped after a bachelor’s and was now helping Ling with diplomatic work.

This afternoon, both men had time off, so they walked home with their arms full of groceries.

Ed was mid-wisecrack about a kid he’d seen in the street playing with a firework (and _who else_ they knew that liked to show off) when Al turned an unsettlingly knowing look in his direction.

“Ed,” said Al, scarily deadpan. “You mention your ‘colonel bastard’ all the time, but you realize he’s not a colonel anymore? We’ve seen him in papers. Last I heard, he was a general.”

“Yeah, well, whatever,” Ed brushed off. “It doesn’t flow as nicely.”

“Instead of debating his nicknames, why don’t you reach out to the man? He’s obviously living rent-free in your head.”

Ed scoffed so dramatically he might just lose a lung. “Well.” He cleared his throat and mustered the rest of his dignity. “I guess I could.” He fiddled with his bags of produce. “Seriously, though, after _years_? He’s probably forgotten me, or maybe he thinks I’m a jerk for not writing earlier.”

“Brother, you _are_ a jerk.” Al grinned. “But you’re _you_ , so the people who matter don’t give a shit about that.” He paused thoughtfully. “Also, I always thought you underestimated the guy. He’s probably quite nice under that ‘do your paperwork!’ exterior.”

Al’s Mustang impression makes Ed snort. “Yeah, well. Maybe I’ll say hi. Why not?”

* * *

“Sir, you have personal mail.”

“Here?” Roy furrowed his brow, perplexed. “Interesting.” He picked up the envelope and something sparked alive in his chest as he recognized the handwriting. He tore it open.

He burst out laughing, which was rare enough that Riza stepped closer to look at the contents as well. It looked like an ordinary enough letter: a few pages written in the trademark Elric scrawl. However, the first page was adorned with a crudely drawn picture of Roy Mustang and a much taller Edward Elric. It was helpfully labelled with “bastard” and “genius” in case the viewer didn’t understand the traits of black mop and smug grin versus long braid (and incredible height, apparently).

“Ed,” muttered Roy, “you’re brilliant, but your talent in drawing is severely lacking.”

Riza smiled and left him to his correspondence. Roy felt himself unfolding as he read through the Elrics’ adventures in Xing. A part of him was relieved at the evidence that Ed didn’t actually hate him. The younger man had always been prickly, which was fair enough, but dropping contact so abruptly after the Promised Day had felt like a slap. He’d always wondered what he’d done wrong, beyond some protective ribbing, but perhaps association with trauma was enough.

In any case, Ed was back, and he wanted to chat.

Roy finished reading and took out his best paper and a quill pen.

 _Very well_ , he thought. _Let’s catch up._

* * *

“You have another letter,” said Al.

“Why do you hafta say it like that?” Ed grumbled, his face heating. “It’s just writing.”

“Sure, it’s just writing, but it’s also _just grinning at a page and then spending hours composing the perfect reply_.”

“I absolutely do not!” Ed jumped up. “Well, not like that. It just… has to be right.”

“Sure,” said Al, wandering back over to the kitchen. “Whatever lets you sleep at night.”

“Hey, brother?” Ed followed him and observed his sandwich making.

“Mhm?”

“How did you know you wanted to be with May?”

Al’s eyes instinctively drew to his engagement ring, as they often did, and he smiled. “I didn’t, at first. She was a bit annoying, even, but she liked me.” He paused. “After we talked a few times, I realized my first impression was incomplete. She’s funny, and cute, and incredibly courageous.”

“No wonder it took time, Al. The first time y’all met, she was single-minded on beating up a suit of armour.”

“That did obscure those qualities, yes. Though I did learn that she was damn intimidating for a bean sprout.”

Ed smirked at the memory. “I’m sure it helped that her soul tattoo activated right after that.”

“Well, yes,” admitted Al. “But feelings don’t appear overnight. You can discover them and choose to help them grow.”

Ed chewed his lip. “Honestly, that’s less ‘ _romantic’_ than I’d expect from you.”

Al smiled. “Well, I do love May, and I want to spend my life with her, but it’s more than just a prescription or a certainty. We choose to nourish our link. We choose to get to know each other better every day, and to support each other however we can.”

“I take it back – of course there’s romantic bullshit involved.”

“Ha. Maybe.” Al looked thoughtful again, which was always dangerous. “But hey, brother? Maybe you can’t check your tattoo, but you do have good judgement. Don’t be afraid to try.”

Ed thought. “Thanks, Al.”

He grabbed a fruit and headed out the door to the lab.

On his way, his gaze was drawn to a shop he’d seen but never visited. “ _Reading the Dragon’s Pulse.”_

He nearly jumped when he saw eyes watching him from the window. They disappeared for a moment, and then the face that contained them popped out from the shop door. “Young man! Would you care for a soulmate reading?”

Ed swallowed. There was something earnest and compelling about the woman, but he didn’t particularly want to examine the feeling. “I’m fine, thanks. I don’t really have money on me.”

“No, no, you wouldn’t need money.” _Pinako_ , he realized. This woman reminded him of a long-lost relative of Granny Pinako. “I can see you’re separated from your soulmate. It would be my pleasure to help.”

Most people Ed’s age had either found their mate or reconciled to life without the certainty of a soul tattoo. How did she know? Curiosity drew him inside her shop for a reading.

“Please, please, sit,” she said. “And I’m serious, this is pro bono. On the house.”

“Well, all right,’ said Ed somewhat awkwardly. “Thanks.” His lab time was flexible today, but hopefully this would be quick.

“Please hold out your right hand.” Ed complied, and she didn’t react to the scarring. She examined his palm lines for a moment. “It’s just as I thought. Your soulmate gave you the gifts of crafty lightning and mighty earth, yes?”

Ed nodded slowly, amused at her wording but mostly wondering how she knew.

“Well, the Dragon’s Pulse tells me your link transferred passion and impressive temper,” she tapped her temple. “In other words, your mate possesses the gift of fire.” Ed’s mouth ran dry. “It’s an exceedingly rare power in Xing, and perhaps in your homeland as well.” She nodded at his golden hair and eyes. “If I’m reading this correctly, you’ve already met your soulmate.” Her gaze became more intense, and suddenly Ed felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Do you have a sense of who they might be?”

“I’m not sure,” he managed to say. “You’ve provided some interesting food for thought. I’d better go, but thanks for the reading.”

Her eyes twinkled shrewdly. “It is no problem. The Pulse wanted you to know.” She folded her hands together. “Good luck.”

The truth was glaringly clear to him, as he’d long suspected. His soulmate was Mustang – no – _Roy_. The bastard’s smile filled his mind’s eye. _Well, shit._

* * *

Riza walked in with a most peculiar expression.

“Sir, you have a guest.”

“What on earth –”

Said guest barged in behind her, without waiting, because old habits die hard.

“Hello, bastard.”

Roy’s eyebrows practically receded into his hairline. Riza tactfully excused herself.

“Fullmetal? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You can call me Ed,” said the beautiful man before him. Dear lord, did he glow up. “I’ve still got the heart of steel and all that, but I don’t answer to my dog name anymore.”

“Fair enough,” said Roy, steepling his fingers and pretending that any of this made sense. “You’re welcome to use ‘Roy’, of course.”

Ed nodded, and then leaned in with a manic glint in his eye. Roy was suddenly both glad and alarmed that the door was closed. “So… is there anything you wanna tell me?”

Roy gulped. “…Regarding?”

Ed rolled his eyes. “Fire, Roy. Ten guesses it’s from Xerxian genes combining with my glorious personality.”

“You… knew?” His voice sounded vaguely strangled.

“Well, I suspected, but obviously now I do.” Ed went back on the offensive, his colour high. “Tell me, Roy – what the hell? How long have you known?”

Roy shrugged. “I found out in the usual way. My tattoo activated after we first met.”

“You’ve kept it a secret for over ten fucking years?”

Roy picked up a pen and started drumming it rather aggressively. “What would you have me do, Elric? Proposition a twelve-year-old?”

“It’s Ed.”

“Yes, well. Ed.” Roy breathed in and out, willing calm back into his bones. “That wasn’t a notion I was willing to entertain. Courting you was so far off the menu, it wasn’t even in the same restaurant. You were always a fascinating person, to be certain, but you were a child.”

“What about near the end of my, I dunno, military tenure? I was _basically_ an adult.”

Roy frowned. “No, you weren’t. You were mature, and you had too much power for your own damn good, I’ve give you that. I won’t say that I didn’t notice your facial symmetry, as one does fine art, but you were still too young. Seriously, Ed, can you picture yourself with a sixteen-year-old? Even if it wasn’t _illegal_?”

Ed wrinkled his nose. “Good point.”

“Exactly.”

“But… all those years. I thought you hated me.”

Roy clenched his eyes shut for a moment and wished he could disappear. “Listen, I’m sorry, Ed. I just… I wanted to keep you safe, and I wanted to hold boundaries. Micromanaging you was the best way I knew how.” He met Ed’s steady gaze. “I realized later that some of our banter must have been discouraging to you. I’m… I’m sorry. You and your brother always had my full confidence.”

Ed shrugged. “It’s fine. I didn’t actually mind the banter. The paperwork, sure.”

“That was the non-negotiable part.”

Ed looked like he was two seconds from sticking out his tongue, but he bit it instead. His expression softened. “It’s been surprisingly nice catching up with you from Xing.”

“That it has,” said Roy. “Your letters always bring a smile to my face. And I always wonder how you stock such a robust collection of nude-figure stamps.”

“I have my sources,” smirked Ed. “But listen. I stomped in here like an asshole.” He sighed. “ _I’m_ sorry. I dunno how to do this.” His eyes darted, like they were tracing the contours of Roy’s face. Roy wondered what thoughts lurked behind them.

“‘This’?” said Roy, distracted.

“You and me.” Ed wet his lips. “Oh, Xerxes, you are interested in men, right? Or in me? I swear, if you didn’t mention this ‘cuz you’re not, I’m such a dumbass –”

Roy pressed a gentle finger to his lips. “Honestly, you’re one of the smartest men I know.” He freed Ed’s mouth, and the younger man’s gaze dropped to Roy’s mouth. Roy gulped. “You were a pretty young man, sure, but today you walk in here and I would swear you were a model.”

Ed grinned. “No shit?”

“Yes shit.” Roy feigned indignance, and then winked. “Your eyes pierce my being _and_ the bullshit I present to the world. Your smile bursts with joy.” He stood up to match Ed, though he was careful not to encroach on his space. “I’m frankly jealous of the beauty of your golden hair. And… so much else.” He gestured helplessly at the man and cleared his throat. “Ed, you are damn fine. And you know what? I think you’ve grown taller.”

Ed leaned over and met Roy in a hungry kiss. It could best be described as _transcendent_.

“That smug smile wasn’t supposed to work on me,” said Ed, “but fuck. You’re a handsome bastard, and I don’t want to be immune to your charm anymore.” He smiled. “I’m not sure I ever was.” Their lips clashed once more.

Roy didn’t think he’d ever experienced anything so heady, and Ed’s wide-pupiled grin pointed to a similar hypothesis.

To test the theory, they needed to conduct more thorough experiments. Roy cleared his afternoon agenda (for science).

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Roy and Ed had made strong headway on their research. They did plenty of testing and some critical analysis. (They were both dutiful nerds.)

“It’s settled,” grinned Ed.

“Yup.” Roy closed the notebook. “Apparently neither of us has experienced anything more intoxicating than kissing the other.”

“But wait – intoxicating in what sense? Can we combine definitions? I think we need to prepare mojitos and conduct all our tests again.”

“Hmm.” Roy lazily kissed down the length of Ed’s jaw. “That could be arranged.”

For a moment, they sat back and just smiled at each other. Candles flickered gently around them, arguably because Roy was a romantic and a show-off.

“Your fucking eyes,” said Ed after a moment. “I never want to stop staring into them. No wonder people write poetic shit about this. My soul feels like it’s exploding all the time, but in the best way.”

They dwelled in comfortable silence, and then Roy grinned. “My dear, how long do you plan to be in the country?”

“Way to ruin the mood.” Ed stuck out his tongue, for real this time.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Roy played with Ed’s braid. “I was wondering if you could be convinced to spend a longer time here. As in, however long you might wish.” He felt vulnerable and bare, but he at least had to ask.

Their gazes continued the back and forth of their dance. Neither man wanted to blink (though sometimes this was inevitable).

“It’s funny you ask,” said Ed. “I just heard back from Central University today.”

“Oh?”

“They want me to teach next semester.” Ed grinned shyly. “I wonder if I could ship my stuff here and then just kind of… stick around? Get to know you better?”

“Edward Elric,” said Roy, “there’s nothing I would like more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, any feedback is welcome, and thank you for reading!


End file.
